


What Have I Done?

by JEAikman



Series: The Musketeers - prompts and one-shots [22]
Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Gen, Never - Freeform, Tag to Musketeers Don't Die Easily, because there is never enough Athos guilt, just after d'art gets shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-03
Updated: 2014-04-03
Packaged: 2018-01-18 00:57:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1409089
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JEAikman/pseuds/JEAikman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"What have you done?" she cried, and the words cut so deep, because they echo his own, as he had held his dying brother in his arms. The very same way that the others were cradling d'Artagnan. He hadn't meant to shoot him there. He hadn't. It was an accident - he'd meant to aim for the arm. But he was too bloody drunk. "You've killed him. You've killed one of your precious Musketeer brothers!"</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Have I Done?

Athos made an aborted move towards his fallen friend, his hand automatically going up to reach for him before stopping himself. He couldn't ruin the plan. D'Artagnan would be fine.

Fine - despite the fact he'd been shot in the side. Shot by Athos. He blanched as Aramis shook his head and lifted a hand covered in blood, and Porthos tried desperately to wake d'Artagnan, going as far as to slap him on the cheek whilst Treville cradled the boy in his arms. Oh god. Oh god. He'd killed d'Artagnan. He'd killed him. He was just as bad as her.

" _What have you done?"_ she cried, and the words cut so deep, because they echo his own, as he had held his dying brother in his arms. The very same way that the others were cradling d'Artagnan. He hadn't meant to shoot him there. He hadn't. It was an accident - he'd meant to aim for the arm. But he was too bloody drunk. " _You've killed him. You've killed one of your precious Musketeer brothers!"_ the grief in her voice was so real that it hurts, and Athos realised that she genuinely felt something for the Gascon, and that unsettled something in his chest.

"He is no brother of mine." He felt sickened at his own words. "He chose to help a murderess. He chose his own fate."

" _As I chose mine?"_ She asked venomously. The tone did not make sense. Of course she chose her own fate - she could have not murdered Thomas, but she did. Because he knew what she was - a criminal.

"You murdered my brother." She glared at him, and picked up her dagger which he had carelessly thrown.

"As if you have any right to judge me - _look at what you did - he called you brother - he called you friend. Murderer."_ It was an accusation he had heard from her so many times in his dreams, but to hear it in reality, when it was _true_.

"He's not dead - not yet." Aramis muttered under his breath. "If we get him back to the garrison now, I can-"

"No." Milady protested, no room for argument in her tone. "I think you _Musketeers_ have done enough. He will come with me."

For the sake of the plan, Athos agreed through gritted teeth.

"Do what you will. He is nothing to me. He made his choice."

"So you say" she disagreed again, lifting d'Artagnan into a carriage which she had waiting. She was surprisingly strong. No wonder Thomas hadn't stood a chance. "I'll be sure to tell him just how much he means to you."

He managed to wait until the carriage disappeared out of sight before he collapsed onto his knees.

"I've killed him. Mon Dieu. I've killed him."

"ATHOS!" Aramis yelled, slapping him across the cheek. "Get a hold of yourself. He's not dead. He'll be fine. We'll go through with the plan, and everything will work out - you'll see."

"I shot him."

"It was his plan" Porthos muttered under his breath, dragging Athos back to his feet and towards the garrison.

Once they were all in Treville's office, under the guise of the captain demanding an explanation for his soldier's actions, Athos again dropped to his knees and sobbed.

"What have I done? Dear God - _what have I done?"_ There was nothing they could say or do to comfort him, but they shared his pain.


End file.
